


Got You To Keep Me Warm

by kvarcas



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comeplay, Crying, Fingering, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Rimming, Sex Toys, pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kvarcas/pseuds/kvarcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the 80% of pictures of Harry wherein you can see his nipples through his shirt.<br/>In a nutshell: Harry has kinks and Louis is happy to serve him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got You To Keep Me Warm

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly just mindless self indulgence between things I really should be doing.

Harry was almost positive that a good amount of people noticed it. It didn't matter what he wore; he could definitely feel it, the way his brown little nipples sat atop the firm muscles of his pectorals, always puffy or perky, sensitive and raw feeling. He could see it in paparazzi pictures or in street candids, concert snapshots, pictures with fans, almost always outlined through whatever shirt he was wearing at the time. Big shirts, tight shirts, no shirt, he could see it. It made him somewhat self conscious despite the pleasure extracted whenever fingers or material would rub against them. He loved it though, the raw sandpaper-trodden feeling on the tips of his aureolas at the end of the days, the slight humiliation of the passerby noticing and pondering if he was cold even in the heat and humidity of summer or if he aroused. Sometimes he found himself tightly wrapping his arms over his chest when he felt the skin tightening up into a hardened nub. It got a kick out of the lads whenever he'd squeak or protect himself from their prodding and poking and pinching. 

Niall especially thought it was funny because everyone liked to do it to him so much ever since he started to wear tanktops or go shirtless more often. They’d be prancing around on stage and usually Louis or Zayn would just go after him, poking him directly or pinching him while he was singing. Harry did it too, only to be the sole person earning the repercussions from his blond friend. Liam would tell Niall to stop harassing him and for Harry to stop being such a little shit about it (Zayn giggled at the comment), trying to get them to stop before reaching out and twisting especially hard at one of the youngest singer’s nipples while Zayn did the same with an included blunt fingernail. They’d all laugh as Harry would blush and cover himself not so subtly. 

Louis knew Harry was embarrassed by it and tried his best to not tease as much as the others did, but he was infatuated with how Harry reacted to the sensitivity. He liked watching the others toy with his boyfriend’s weak spot because that meant Harry was riled up by the end of a show and he didn't have to work as hard to get him into bed and into that lovely, quiet state of adoration. The boys would slap his bum and pull down his pants, just humiliate him endlessly and that already was enough to get both of them hard up, but then Niall would dive up Harry's shirt with sweaty, calloused fingers and Harry was just gone. He'd wink at the others once they were released from the car or when they'd state their plans for the night and tuck Harry away in his room. The door would lock and Harry would gulp in the glowing haze of the room. He would settle on the bed like a good boy and Louis would go about getting everything ready: shutting the curtains and tying them together with their crimson velcro straps but keeping the window screen open for warm summer air to swim around, taking out the lube and clamps and ring and then having a wet flannel nearby to clean Harry up afterwards. 

Louis kicked off his shoes quietly while Harry did the same. The only lights on were the golden bedside orbs, the white overhead one in the bathroom, crawling out to color the floor under the closed door. "My pretty boy," Louis tutted, "let me help you get the rest of your clothes off.” Louis then worked down Harry's trousers, a second skin, before peeling off his underwear and socks. His necklaces almost always stayed on, his rings slipped into the top pocket of his suitcase so no one would steal them or they'd become misplaced. Harry willingly lay down on the pillows with his hands above his head, legs crossed at the bone of his ankle politely. His cock, flushed and pulsing, lay against his left hipbone. He watched Louis with his careful doe eyes, pondering and watchful as Louis undressed himself. Harry reached out and pet over the soft fuzzy skin of Louis' golden arse, pinching his thigh in his wake and cupping the jut of his elbow to trace his tattoos. The older male then went to kiss his nose before joining him on the bed. Not tied to the bedpost, rather, but his hands were lightly secured in a silk tie that Louis always kept tucked away.

Dry fingers pet his chest, the dip of his sternum and over each intricate swirl and dot in the butterfly's wings before tracing back up to his nipples. Louis' touch was feathery and like a cloud over the heated erogenous zone. Then there a pinch, a pull. A jolt of pleasure would spark a fire and a little 'oh' before a hot mouth and clacking teeth bit down on the centre. And oh, yes, that was very nice. One nipple was then wet and hard to the summer breeze, upturned away from his chest proudly. Louis smiled and pinched again before the little metal clamps went on. They held Harry's skin tight and hard between the cold teeth of each pleasure trap and he'd soon be flipped to his stomach. Eyes downcast, jade orbs admired careful hands giving his length a few generous pumps before slipping down the rubber band of the cock ring. The metal of each clamp pressed into soft skin from pressure and weight, a lovely pinprick of pain to the younger lad. He could break easily from the tie because Louis hadn’t tied it tightly on purpose; it was a test.

He hummed when his cheeks were spread apart, showing off the bare expanse of his crease and taint and his pink little hole. Harry's cheeks always lit fire when Louis would speak filthily while slicking a few fingers up, settling one by one in during the breaks in his sentence. "My good boy, my pretty Haz, all laid out with his little tits all pinched and hard and his cheeks spread for me. Want me to finger you or do you think you could take it dry?" Louis would never go in dry but still, the thought was hot anyway. 

Harry nodded and sighed sweetly, rubbing his face to the side into his given pillow as Louis kissed over his entrance a few times. A finger went in next, just wet enough, and hooked on his rim. He gasped and Louis chuckled at the boy’s reaction before sliding in another. This was just for stretching, not pleasure, as Louis went avoiding Harry’s prostate save a few nudges against it. Harry bucked and moaned into his arm, slightly against the mattress, feeling the heavy bite on his nipples as he tried to get some more friction on his cock. Louis went around and dug his fingers into the weepy crown of Harry’s cock, playing with the foreskin and reaching down to fondle his balls. “Sweetheart,” Louis chided when Harry started to grind into his grasp, “don’t be greedy.” Harry murmured out an apology and pouted. 

“‘m gonna fuck you now, alright?” Louis flipped him over and pet down the base of Harry’s spine and slicked himself up the best he could, smiling at the way Harry wriggled down against his thigh and turned over his shoulder. “Hi,” the younger boy whispered. Louis simply moved to kiss his nose once more before leaning over the backs of his thighs and took himself in hand, pushing in fluidly like a ritual. The blue eyed man rest over his boyfriend’s spine, leaning on one elbow and petting his hair with his free hand. He made slow circles with his hips, the slight bone indentations there kissing the underside of Harry’s bottom. “Let me hear you Haz, make some noise for me, get on your knees.” 

Louis bottomed out for a moment before leaning back on his knees and allowing Harry to lay back on his elbows and knees. The clamps on his nipples looked painful and sharp, the skin gone from dusty brown and fading to a purple stained red, so Louis undid the clasps and pinched, hard, the tight skin. Harry cried out with his stained lips open wide and his eyes closed, lashes fanned and eyebrows knit up tight on his forehead. He hoped Louis won’t pinch too much; they were going to hang around the pool tomorrow and god knows what the fans would think if they saw the dark marks around Harry’s always puffy nipples. But, of course, Louis reached around and pinched right where the teeth cut into his satin skin, kissed his shoulder because he knew it hurt, but then he could baby Harry afterwards and kiss his nipples, put Harry in his lap and just smother him in love and order him some strawberry ice cream. Maybe he could run Harry a bath with those peppermint and eucalyptus salts?

Just when Harry thought nothing else was going to happen save the pinching on nipples and the kisses on his skin, Louis surprised him surely and shot forward, taking Harry in hand again. Yes, that was just what he needed. “Shit,” the boy swore, “like that, Lou.” Louis sort of chuckled behind him, desert dry, and started to fuck him proper. His hips corkscrewed forward and then back again, hand a constant friction on Harry’s cock. It was all sort of beautiful, but ephemeral because Harry’s sac felt full and the warm feeling of Louis inside him was so pleasant; Louis knew how to fuck him and that was something he was a little too grateful for. He wanted to beg Louis to just tie his arms together too and lay him on the rough geometrical carpeting, just take him there and bite his nipples until he was sobbing and then set him on his stomach and do it all over again until his front was scabbed from the rug and splotchy milk messes leaked from his cock and made it too sensitive to touch.

Louis pushed down on the section between Harry’s shoulder blades and then proceeded to fuck into him mercilessly, feeling Harry’s balls bounce on his thigh and the moans reverberating through his body as he was forced into the pillow. “Let go,” Louis breathed, clutching the younger boy, “c’mon angel.”  
Louis’ words seemed to be the key that unlocked his release, because it was just Louis telling him to do something and he simply couldn’t not obey. Harry locked down around Louis’ weepy cock and pinched his nipples tight, nails digging into the aching skin there, and let his length spurt freely all over his legs and the top of the duvet. 

He laid against the blankets, feeling a bit overheated and overworked, sore, but overly pleased like always. His dick was sticky from laying in his release and a little sensitive to the friction he was being pressed into. He’d also gotten the ties loose enough to fall off and he could feel the older man smile when he saw how he’d resisted towards touching himself through the loose restraints. Louis was still lined up behind Harry, just using him and biting into his skin, carving the constellations of his tattoos and freckles with blunt nails. A loud breath and a little moan accompanied by a few splashes and trickles of heat signified his release. 

Louis still held him down for a little until he was sure Harry was completely full of his spunk and then proceeded to pull out: a wet, slick noise filling the darkened room. Harry was just laying there all golden and sunny, the lamp light warming his relaxed features and the pixie dust blush over the bridge of his nose and on his cheeks. He was smiling at Louis though, with a finger to his bubblegum mouth in a cheeky way. “Can I plug you up?” Louis asked, almost as if he was questioning if Harry wanted his eggs scrambled or poached; it was a regular question between them. Harry only nodded and curled into the sea of blankets and shivered as his body heat started to return to normal. Louis went off somewhere before returning with the flannel from earlier, some tingly creme for his sore little teats, the purple plug ‘round one finger and the fresh comforter from the other bed. He nudged Harry so he could clean him off and rub the creme on - the boy wriggling about as he was dabbed and pet - before Louis tucked him between the sheets and switched the comforters so he wouldn’t end up with a hand in crusted spunk like before. The plug went in with ease, sucked in and held tight.  
Louis wormed his way in after shutting off the lights, glowing flames extinguished, and shut the window, keeping out the twinkling blanket overhead. 

He pet Harry’s sides and whispered pretty things to him before the younger man purred into sleep, Louis chasing slowly behind him.

-

It was obvious, to the say the least, over the next few days whenever someone looked at Harry’s upper body. Paul had raised an eyebrow at the boy whenever he looked troubled, as his t-shirt would rub uncomfortably against the swollen skin, then moved his authoritative manager gaze over to Louis. Louis, the little shit, only smirked and shrugged. At least no fans or outside people pointed it out, to Harry’s pleasure, whenever his breathing became hitched as someone bumped into his chest or pinned up against his shoulder. The phrase ‘ow ow, my tit’ was pretty much understandable at that point. Even Eleanor, sent on another date with Louis wherein she was verbally attacked numerous times, shook aside some of her anxiety to say, “My God Lou, what’d you do to the boy?” when she went on Twitter and found linked pictures to Harry roaming around New York while the others were about in Montreal. Louis had snickered at her and she bat at his leg, smirking but all the while really not wanting to know what her quote on quote boyfriend had been up to with his actual lover behind the bolts and locks of hotel room doors. 

When Harry was with them again, at the hotel room, Louis had gotten him naked and started right away. “Sweet Jesus Harry, would you please stop squirming?” the older boy chastised when Harry cried out at the feeling of the clothes pins on his nipples. They swelled uncomfortably in the teeth of the wood and plastic. Harry let out a rough breath, labored. “Hurts Louis, they haven’t healed.” Louis tapped impatiently at a clothes pin with his honey sweet fingers before poking at the other set of ‘nipples’ that were still joked about. “Maybe I’ll play with the other two,” he admonished, pinching the two maroon moles between his index finger and thumb. He watched Harry in a fascinated way, darkened blue-green eyes fantastical at the way the other male twitched and whined. “That’ll just look more suspicious, you know.” Harry did have a point, he supposed, but Harry was, indeed, his lover and soul mate and play thing. He could do with the boy almost whatever he pleased and Harry would just take it. Louis smirked up at Harry, as Harry was situated in this pink rose printed armchair at the back corner of the steamed-milk tinted room and he was now looming up at his from the floor. Louis was everywhere and Harry didn’t want to escape it. 

Louis smacked his lips like his favourite fruit juice dribbled there and he wanted to catch it before it dropped down his chin, “You’re usually pretty talkative when I’m just playing with you. Riddle me something, Styles.” Harry looked over the toned peak of his chest, down the rest of his naked body where Louis was now just tapping at his perineum and holding a little ribbed plug in his other hand. Louis raised a judgemental eyebrow up at his boyfriend before starting to threateningly push the tip of the blunt plastic to his entrance. “Remember that story about that date I tried to go on with some girl, lit up the bridge and brought flow- fuck! Louis, you fucking shit!” Louis just smirked up at Harry as he had the lightly slicked up plug tucked in, at least a good half way, without warning, “continue,” he mused. “Fuck. And, an’ I said I got drunk and went home? I actually got drunk and met up with this guy I knew, he was like nineteen, and I let him finger fuck me because I was miserable and drunk and horny. When I think about it, mm, he kinda looked like you, just not as cute.”

Louis looked scandalized but amused. He loved Harry’s arse just as much as Harry loved his, and he loved rimming Harry’s little tush, pinching the milk skin until it blossomed like a flower in little pink spots, an unrhymed polka dot pattern over the globe of each cheek. The thought of some other guy - a less attractive of himself -fingering a young mousy Harry into messy orgasm was kind of hot, if anything. Instead of further questioning Harry’s antics behind the story, Louis pushed the plug all the way in. Harry whined high in his throat and leaned into it. “Sweet Cheeks,” the older male smirked, tapping the plug, “you’re one silly little fuck, aren’t you?” Harry sort of nodded, giggled while doing so, face tight. “C’mon Louis.” Harry’s voice was higher pitched, strung with arousal and his features were evident over the need to be pleased. Louis tapped the plug again and carefully switched spots with Harry, pulling the taller boy up in his lap and using one knee to jam the toy up harder into the curly haired lad. Rather pleased with the reaction he earned, Louis did it again whilst grabbing for the lube tossed haphazardly over by the rose printed arm chairs, slicking himself up lazily but not overdoing the amount.    
Harry watched through hooded forest eyes and watched his lover cover himself. The sounds were slick and slippery and left nothing to imagination to what he was doing. The plug was then pulled out as quickly as it had gone in and then was replaced by Louis’ hot girth. A silent moan caught his fruity mouth into an ‘o’ shape and oh god, Harry simply couldn’t _breathe_ as Louis pinched his nipples again. “Ow Lou, hurts,” the younger male whined and went to clutching Louis’ elbows in the cradle of his palm. The pleasure was gone from the usually ever hot erogenous zone. They just hurt from being over-used and overstimulated. His nipples were so dark, painfully pulled hard over the aureola and so, so puffy and big, bitten and tugged into an unhealthy violet shade. Bites and nail crescents sat evidently on the skin but Louis just kept going. He liked pushing Harry’s buttons and staying in control. “Shh, shh, it’s alright.” But it _wasn’t_ ; Harry wanted to argue and push Louis off his nipples and cover them up like a girl with rather large, full breasts would when her bosom wouldn’t stop bouncing during whatever activity she was participating in. But Louis just went on pinching and biting and laving with kisses like that was somehow going to make it better. Harry couldn’t stop it when the little tear drops escaped his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks, collected at the cut of his jawbone and dropped down his milky neck and bitten chest. They rolled down in salty rivulets. Louis didn’t notice, or seemed not to, as he just kept giving harsh little thrusts up into Harry’s inked body. He kept one hand on the small of Harry’s back to keep him steady, pressing his able fingers into the dimples collected at the base of Harry’s spine like little angel kisses. Maybe he could talk Harry into piercing them one day? Or his nipples, because he loved abusing them.

An assaulting hand moved from comforting to hurting as spanks landed over Harry’s rosy arse cheeks. He gasped and hiccuped but his tears didn’t stop. They glimmered in the low light of the room and caught midair before crashing like raindrops. Louis looked up from his pleasure-lost state and then saw Harry’s tears, the frantic shaking of his head and the leaky tip of his prick. Louis painfully slowed his thrusts and just held tight to the other boy. His chocolate locks were frizzy and stuck to his face around his ears and forehead, where most of the sweat and tears had collected themselves. And his lips, bitten even more raw and looking like they were stained by a cherry or watermelon lolly, soft skin rigid with pain and his fingers tight on Louis’ elbows. “Oh Pumpkin,” Louis whispered guiltily, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” Harry just cried harder into the juncture of the tan male’s neck and shoulder. Soft hands went about massaging the invisible angel wings (‘You should get some ink, right on the blade; it’ll hurt but look so beautiful, ‘cause you’re my angel’) of Harry’s shoulder blades and cupping his jaw. “You want to move this back to the bed? No more biting and clamps for awhile, I promise.”

Louis still went around muttering apologies as Harry was taken back to the bed, set on his right side toward the bed lamp. Dark violet shadows crawled over his skin and settled there, mocking the bruises of pleasure that Harry sometimes begged for and that Louis would kindly give. Harry had gone all quiet and pliant, sort of spaced out, as Louis moved back to the bed and settled himself on the inside of Harry’s right thigh, squeezing back in and holding a good grip on Harry’s cock whilst starting his thrusting before. There was less vigor, less pleasurable getting off and kink exploration, less ‘let’s see how much Harry can take’ and more slow lovemaking. 

With one side relaxed into the blankets, Harry nuzzled his face into the lavender scented duvet, bunched it up in his fingers and held tight with shaky breaths. Little tears still spilled on every other thrust because now, his little spots could finally rest. “I’m so sorry Harry,” Louis started up again. “Sorry I pushed you too - fuck - far and didn’t listen to you. Sorry I made you cry.” He pet Harry’s curls and Harry purred into his hand, nuzzled against Louis’ heavenly touch on his raw skin. The warm hand around his cock was pumping faster and the slight, semi-constant poking at his prostate was becoming a little bit too much for Harry, as was the rhythmic tightening around Louis’ dick. Louis’ face was so ultimately blissed out when his grinding ceased and he spurted into Harry’s willing, tired body. His angelic boy, his lovely Harry, just on the edge as his fingers went about scissoring and stretching where his cock had just released sticky white. His digits were damp with it but Harry didn’t mind. Harry shivered and gasped out a finish as his red, silky length shut up a good few spurts over his tummy, settling on the butterfly and right over the freckle furthest down on his chest. 

Harry sort of zoned after that, just cuddled into the flowery blankets and let his mind wonder to laying in some green field covered in daisies and lavender and little blossoms while kissing his boyfriend freely and drinking some exotic orange drink Louis bought at a club one night back home. Louis was going around cleaning up what he could before wiping himself and Harry down with a flannel (Niall teased Harry about putting a pad in when Louis took his plug out right before and interview, translating to after an evening of good fucking, when he felt wet and like Lou’s spunk was getting on his underwear) gently and then bringing the blankets up around them. He spread around and licked away any remnants of seed that lay drying on Harry’s chest, swallowing the light traces of Harry’ salty tang. Then, Louis tucked Harry in and then pulled some of the ivory sheets back to rub the minty ointment into the abused skin on the youngest band member’s nipples. He smiled as Harry visibly eased. Harry sighed and hissed while the mint cooled and heightened his senses once more. He hummed low in his throat and let Louis finish before cuddling into his boyfriend’s side. Louis spelled like the citrusy spice of his cologne and faintly of post-sex, making his mind throw around yellow and orange auras behind his eyelids. Louis pulled him into his chest and flicked off the light with a bit of a struggle. He apologized once more with an ‘I love you’ and let both of them fall into some much needed sleep. He couldn’t wait til Harry was healed again.

**Author's Note:**

> I also posted this on my tumblr
> 
> As much kinky shit as I read, I never really write it, and I hope that will come to change.


End file.
